


Sweet Day Job

by AdrenalineRevolver



Series: Le Chat Noir Bakery [1]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Bad Puns, Bakery and Coffee Shop, Crushes, It's both mutual they're just stupid, M/M, Minor Enjolras/Grantaire, Minor Montparnasse/Jehan, Pining Grantaire, Pining Montparnasse, Poor Joly, my weird dumb boys, warning: a bug gets eaten
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-17
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-10-11 20:54:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17454134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdrenalineRevolver/pseuds/AdrenalineRevolver
Summary: Grantaire is late to a meeting (again) so he tries to bribe his way out of trouble.





	Sweet Day Job

Grantaire wasn’t usually one to go to actual bakeries however he needed a decent excuse for being late again. He figured that he could only be so glared at if he brought cupcakes. 

He always joked that the little bakery, with it’s art nouveau inspired interior, had to be a front for drugs. It was simply too nice to be making enough money off students. The ceiling was painted for god’s sake. Yet he knew that Enjolras had a weakness for it. So did Jehan, but he didn’t sneak in and out like it was a crime.

Le Chat Noir’s menu had a periodic terrible pun thrown in. Capurrchino, laté meowcciato, meowcarons; Courfeyrac would adore it. A handful of cookies next to the register had the famous stylized cat recreated in icing and macarons with pink little paws on them. It was enough that there was obviously a theme but not so over the top that it was annoying.

Nearly everything that could be intricately decorated was. There were rose shaped apple pastries, mini lemon tarts shaped like daises, actual candied violets and lavender sat on top of pale purple cupcakes, and cake pops with striking colors. It wasn’t limited to better-known things either. There was baklava cut into neat diamonds, neatly made zefir, something pink and cute called sakuramochi, and churros twisted into hearts. Each of the foreign treats featured a little flag from their native country on the label. 

As he stared up at the string of roses along the wall he heard someone come in from the back. “My apologies I’ve been working alone to-oh.” Grantaire watched, dumbfounded, as the dreaded Montparnasse hurried in carrying a shiny glazed cake.

“Hey.” He couldn’t really think of anything else to say.

Montparnasse carefully set the cake down. “Macarons.” 

“What?” Grantaire leaned against the counter and ignored Montparnasse’s frown.

“Blondie always gets them when he doesn’t have time to get crepes, seeing as he’s a living stereotype who can only consume French food.” He walked over to the display that had a bright assortment of colors. “They also seem basic enough that you’ll seem like less of a stalker.” 

“You do this often?” It was still hard to see the knife twirling Montparnasse working at a bakery, even if it was certainly a front for something. 

“Often enough that I can give you a baker’s dozen for the price of six if you keep your mouth shut once you leave here.” A bribe, apparently Montparnasse wanted to keep this relatively quiet himself.

“And if I don’t?” Grantaire didn’t really have any use for the knowledge but it was too tempting to poke at him.

“One will have arsenic and you’ll never be able to tell which. They’re all made with almond flour and arsenic is known to blend in perfectly with almonds.” His expression was guarded enough that Grantaire couldn’t tell if he was serious or not. Both were equally likely. 

“Then I suppose I’m bound to agree.” He looked down at the overwhelming amount of flavors. 

Montparnasse quickly grabbed a pair of silver tongs. “You only need to pick six at most because your first six should always be a mix of chocolate, strawberry, and vanilla. Hard to miss with those.”

“Alright.” He nods. “Do you um, have any other recommendations?”

Montparnasse rolled his eyes and just started filling the box. “Orange, espresso, and honey cover a wide range of flavors.”

“And the pink one?” He pointed out the pink macaron with a dusting of gold that Montparnasse set on the top.

“It’s a calling card, I wouldn’t expect you to understand. You see the decoration is actual gold, not all of the leaf can be used on a project so the unused bits are carefully ground into a powder-”

“No the flavor.” He interrupted before Montparnasse could launch into a speech about the individual aesthetics of a cookie.

“Oh.” He sighs and actually looks a little disappointed. “It’s rose.”

That sounded like him. “Alright.” He nodded.

“If you don’t care about looking like a weirdo I can give you his usual coffee order too.” Montparnasse gestured to the copper espresso machine behind the counter.

“What is it?” He probably wouldn’t but it wouldn’t hurt to know.

“A Borgia with an extra shot of chocolate. Direct trade beans and chocolate and local everything else because of course he has to be completely sure that his vices don’t cause any injustice in the world. Not a bad choice of order to be honest, it’s just a bitch to make.” As he complains he cleans off the machine and starts to make something.

“What even is that?” Grantaire loved the name, he was sure it burnt Enjolras up to order it every time. 

“It’s like a mocha but with cinnamon and orange peels on the whipped cream. Of course I have to make the damned whipped cream by hand because the fancy local milk he’s deemed ethical enough doesn’t sell it. Those damn cows have cushier lives than me.” He huffs and leans against the counter as he waits for it to brew. “He’s tried both Feuilly and Jehan’s orders but they just about kill him. The redeye that Feuilly chugs every morning nearly blew his heart out and he couldn’t get a handle on Jehan’s Turkish.”

“Feuilly comes here?” Wasn’t it a bit out of Feuilly’s price range? Technically it was out of Grantaire’s too.

“A redeye and an apple turnover every morning before we even fucking open. He works weekends so he has the employee discount and can just waltz in at five goddamn am. If he didn’t help I’d make him wait.” He poured the espresso into a black mug and covered it in whipped cream and chocolate. 

“So do you memorize everyone’s order?” It was kind of impressive.

“If I can. It makes people feel compelled to come back regularly and tip more.” He shrugged and headed over to a cabinet. “You’re getting this so cheap so do me a favor.”

“Sure.” He realized that he may have just sold his soul after the agreement tumbles out of his mouth.

“Since you’re on the way, take this as well. I wouldn’t open it.” Montparnasse handed him a small bag. 

Grantaire immediately opened it and looks inside. “…is that a fucking bug?”

“It’s a chocolate cricket. You can guess who it’s for.” He honestly seemed almost as disgusted as Grantaire.

Well it had to be Jehan. “Why?”

“Jehan asks for the “most strange and delightful thing you have” every time he comes by. I’ve yet to find something he won’t eat when it’s sugar coated. If he doesn’t balk at this I’ll have to resort to jello recipes made by resentful 1940’s housewives.” He sipped at his sugary concoction. “Or a scorpion.”

Grantaire couldn’t tell if this was a challenge or a bizarre and prolonged attempt at seduction. “Alright…so the rose one is for him too right?”

Montparnasse narrowed his eyes. “If that’s the one he wants.” 

“Sure.” The rose one was for him. “So how much do I owe you?”

“Fifteen forty.” Montparnasse didn’t even need to look at the register. 

“Ouch. That’s half off?” Grantaire paid him before he could change his mind.

“Have you ever tried to make one of these colorful little bitches?” He handed him the change without calculating it. It was completely accurate.

“Can’t say I have. See you, Monty.” It got his heckles up every time to have his name shortened like that. 

Like clockwork Montparnasse stood up straighter and seemed personally insulted. “That’s not my fucking name.”

It was too tempting. “Have a nice day, Monty.”

“Get bent.” He huffed before returning to work.

Grantaire walked into the meeting while Enjolras was in the middle of planning a protest. 

“-Saturday works the best for most everyone, nice of you to join us Grantaire, so we should try for a Saturday.” He smiles as most everyone nodded along. 

“I come bearing gifts!” He announced while holding the box over his head.

“Well now, that’s worth the wait.” Bahorel hopped up and came over. “Ooh, Le Chat Noir. Fancy.”

“Oh, thank you.” Enjolras blinked in surprise and came over to see what was available.

Grantaire grinned set the box on the table and opened it so everyone could grab one.

Enjolras smiled and stole away with a strawberry flavored one. “That was thoughtful of you.” It could just be the light but his cheeks were faintly pink.

Grantaire heart skipped a beat and his brain blanked. “Y-yeah. Thanks.”

“I love it there!” Jehan hurried over. “They have really unique items and their decorator is really skilled.”

“Speaking of.” Grantaire handed him the bag. “Best of luck.” 

Jehan’s eyes lit up when he opened it. “Oh! I’ve always wanted to try one of these! How did he know?” 

Grantaire and the others watched in horror as Jehan popped the chocolate cricket into his mouth. “Holy shit.” He could see why Montparnasse had made it his mission to gross Jehan out.

“It’s delicious!” Jehan smiled as he grabbed the rose macaron as well. “It’s perfectly crunchy.”

Joly hit the ground with a thud as he passed out.

**Author's Note:**

> Look me in the eyes and tell me Montparnasse wouldn't be SUPER INVESTED in making sure everything looks good. Drug front or not he WILL decorate those cakes so that they are just as intsta-ready as he is.  
> (Will I add more stuff to this? Probably some day. I just have so many wips. So many.)


End file.
